Raw In 90 Seconds
Alter Bridge: On this day, I see clearly...
Scott Stapp: Care to buy a pretzel to help Jesus?
Edge: Doing a crossword puzzle. 5 letters. To not be in conjunction with fact.
Crowd: Askew!
Edge: Uh, no...
Crowd: False?
Edge: WRONG! You're all wrong! Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck everybody that even looks like you cause you alllll my bitches by proxy!
Crowd: Dislike!
Lita: You know, I was watching 24/7 and it gave me a hell of an idea. throws the Bling Belt into the harbor
Edge: Let me get a real belt on my waist. exact same belt with his logo Sorta. Anyway, since there will be no comeuppance from that Marky Mark wannabe, I'll just take these pearly whites and..
Familiar Guitar Riff: He's back!
Girls: SQUEEEEE!
Jeff Hardy: 'sup.
Edge: Didn't you die, like, 3 years ago? Didn't I ruin your brother's life enough for one bloodline?
Jeff: Ain't ruin these fists. beats
Edge: flees
Short Attention Span Theatre: Please peruse this videotape to find out why the Spirit Squad will be taking on Duggan, Eugene, and the Highlanders in an eight-man tag match.
God: strangely absent
Hacksaw: What channel are we on?!
Crowd: USA!
Eugene: Airplane spin!
Bryan Danielson: I am not amused.
Spirit Squad: pummels
Kenny: Abercrombie & Fitch Jam! misses ow.
Everybody: brawls
Highlanders: Double slingshot reverseplex! 3!
Edge: I want Jeff Hardy!
Coach: All right.
Edge: Not that I'm afraid of him, but he should earn a title shot first.
Coach: I getcha.
Vince: GIT.
Coach: You got it, Uncle Phil.
Vince: It's not over with DX.
Everybody's Eyes: start wandering towards the Wrap It Up box
Orton: Angry!
Carlito: Heh. Clearly someone hasn't gotten Trish kissed lately.
Orton: Your refusal to become angry has enranged me further!
Carlito: Okay.
DX: puts graffitti logo on the side and wing of Air WWE
Vince: Enough is ENOUGH! I have had it with these muthafuckin' degenrates on my muthafuckin' plane!
Shane: Dad, I know you're angry right now--but do you think Shawn & Hunter deserve to die?
Vince: YES, THEY DESERVE TO DIE, AND I HOPE THEY BURN IN HELL!
Trish: stiff
Victoria: stiff
Butch: Close...
Trish: Thesz press!
Butch: DING!
Trish: Stratusfaction!
Victoria: I scoff at your bulldog! Backbreaker! I am in control now!
Trish: puts on Daft Punk
Victoria: They're no T.A.T.U.
Trish: Around the world, around the world, around the world...rana!
Victoria: Widow's Peak!
Trish: Or, better yet, Stratusfaction! Time to bathe in the glow of this victory and
Vince: Move, bitch, get out the way! I'm bringing the cops down on your too-frequently-bared asses!
DX: I know you're looking for us at the airport, but we decided to make up for our chicanery by putting in some time at the office.
Vince: Whew.
DX: And putting graffiti on it.
Vince: :( :( :(
Crowd: Na na na na...
Mick: Hey, Vince.
Vince: You called me by name. I will KEEL YOU. KMA or YF, Grizzly Adams.
Jeff Hardy: Baseball slide! ¡Plancha!
Edge: You go now! And now to attack your ribs--ringpost bow and arrow!
Jeff: Kick wham DDT!
Edge: God, no. What'd you do, just get here from Orlando or something?
Jeff: Twist of Fate!
Edge: No! Falling reverse DDT!
Jeff: ...you were saying?
Edge: He's family, that's different.
Jeff: Whisper in the Wind!
Edge: Can I ask you something? I've known you for like, 10 years, and why in God's name would you--
Jeff: Twist of Fate!
Matt: Well, at least one of us gets to hit it on the son of a bitch...
Jeff: Senton BOMB!
Lita: No! Or something. I dunno, it's irrelevant.
Edge: How's that?
Lita: Incoming!
Cena: GRR! ARGH!
JR: Oh, my God, it's an actual brawl! On a pier! Why isn't it numbered!?
Craig Kilborn: Release, rotation, splash!
Cena: Go find my belt! throws Edge
Edge: Glub.
Melina: I am in no way setting you up for later.
Mick: Good.
Kane: beats on Nitro
Nitro: Can I have a hope spot?
Kane: Yes.
Nitro: Cool! How's about 2?
Kane: How's about SPLAT.
Nitro: ow.
Umaga: rants in native language Downward Spiral! THUMB!
Kane: ZOMBIE SITUP!
Umaga: SECOND ROPE THUMB!
Kane: Now that you mention it, I think I'm bleeding inside my mouth.
Movie Execs: And now the new cinematic sensation to sweep the internet: Wigger In A Skipped Ahnuld Script!
Flair: CHOP!
Orton: One move!
Flair: Oh, right, I almost died last night.
Orton: whales on Ric
Flair: ...maybe...I can fire off some more chops...and...I...
Orton: buh buh buh RKO! Loser. And I will smack you.
Referee: Reverse decision!
Orton: For the first time since 1986!? I will KILL this man.
Carlito: Not on my watch, nothing more than a fratboy smirk, attitude problem, and the same gay-ass tribal tattoos every meterosexual has!
Orton: Dude, that hurt.
Mick: Dear Vince: Fuck you. Stronger words to follow. Love, Cactus.
Vince: Dear Mick: Your ludicrously hot platonic friend gets it. Love, Beezlebub.
Mick: Motherfucker....fine. does it
Melina: cries
Everybody: What?!
Butch: I'm just kidding y'all. Of course she uppercutted him in the balls. And Vince fired him. Don't forget to tune into Sci-Fi next week!
Everybody: ...
Ben Stein: God....God....God?
God: still strangely absent
Ben Stein: Moving on. Helmsley? Michaels?
DX: Present! yank the axle off the McLimo and spraypaint the side
Vince: wailing, groaning
Mick: At least you still have a job and working testicular fortitude. Asshole.
Scott Stapp: Care to buy a pretzel to help Jesus?
Edge: Doing a crossword puzzle. 5 letters. To not be in conjunction with fact.
Crowd: Askew!
Edge: Uh, no...
Crowd: False?
Edge: WRONG! You're all wrong! Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck everybody that even looks like you cause you alllll my bitches by proxy!
Crowd: Dislike!
Lita: You know, I was watching 24/7 and it gave me a hell of an idea. throws the Bling Belt into the harbor
Edge: Let me get a real belt on my waist. exact same belt with his logo Sorta. Anyway, since there will be no comeuppance from that Marky Mark wannabe, I'll just take these pearly whites and..
Familiar Guitar Riff: He's back!
Girls: SQUEEEEE!
Jeff Hardy: 'sup.
Edge: Didn't you die, like, 3 years ago? Didn't I ruin your brother's life enough for one bloodline?
Jeff: Ain't ruin these fists. beats
Edge: flees
Short Attention Span Theatre: Please peruse this videotape to find out why the Spirit Squad will be taking on Duggan, Eugene, and the Highlanders in an eight-man tag match.
God: strangely absent
Hacksaw: What channel are we on?!
Crowd: USA!
Eugene: Airplane spin!
Bryan Danielson: I am not amused.
Spirit Squad: pummels
Kenny: Abercrombie & Fitch Jam! misses ow.
Everybody: brawls
Highlanders: Double slingshot reverseplex! 3!
Edge: I want Jeff Hardy!
Coach: All right.
Edge: Not that I'm afraid of him, but he should earn a title shot first.
Coach: I getcha.
Vince: GIT.
Coach: You got it, Uncle Phil.
Vince: It's not over with DX.
Everybody's Eyes: start wandering towards the Wrap It Up box
Orton: Angry!
Carlito: Heh. Clearly someone hasn't gotten Trish kissed lately.
Orton: Your refusal to become angry has enranged me further!
Carlito: Okay.
DX: puts graffitti logo on the side and wing of Air WWE
Vince: Enough is ENOUGH! I have had it with these muthafuckin' degenrates on my muthafuckin' plane!
Shane: Dad, I know you're angry right now--but do you think Shawn & Hunter deserve to die?
Vince: YES, THEY DESERVE TO DIE, AND I HOPE THEY BURN IN HELL!
Trish: stiff
Victoria: stiff
Butch: Close...
Trish: Thesz press!
Butch: DING!
Trish: Stratusfaction!
Victoria: I scoff at your bulldog! Backbreaker! I am in control now!
Trish: puts on Daft Punk
Victoria: They're no T.A.T.U.
Trish: Around the world, around the world, around the world...rana!
Victoria: Widow's Peak!
Trish: Or, better yet, Stratusfaction! Time to bathe in the glow of this victory and
Vince: Move, bitch, get out the way! I'm bringing the cops down on your too-frequently-bared asses!
DX: I know you're looking for us at the airport, but we decided to make up for our chicanery by putting in some time at the office.
Vince: Whew.
DX: And putting graffiti on it.
Vince: :( :( :(
Crowd: Na na na na...
Mick: Hey, Vince.
Vince: You called me by name. I will KEEL YOU. KMA or YF, Grizzly Adams.
Jeff Hardy: Baseball slide! ¡Plancha!
Edge: You go now! And now to attack your ribs--ringpost bow and arrow!
Jeff: Kick wham DDT!
Edge: God, no. What'd you do, just get here from Orlando or something?
Jeff: Twist of Fate!
Edge: No! Falling reverse DDT!
Jeff: ...you were saying?
Edge: He's family, that's different.
Jeff: Whisper in the Wind!
Edge: Can I ask you something? I've known you for like, 10 years, and why in God's name would you--
Jeff: Twist of Fate!
Matt: Well, at least one of us gets to hit it on the son of a bitch...
Jeff: Senton BOMB!
Lita: No! Or something. I dunno, it's irrelevant.
Edge: How's that?
Lita: Incoming!
Cena: GRR! ARGH!
JR: Oh, my God, it's an actual brawl! On a pier! Why isn't it numbered!?
Craig Kilborn: Release, rotation, splash!
Cena: Go find my belt! throws Edge
Edge: Glub.
Melina: I am in no way setting you up for later.
Mick: Good.
Kane: beats on Nitro
Nitro: Can I have a hope spot?
Kane: Yes.
Nitro: Cool! How's about 2?
Kane: How's about SPLAT.
Nitro: ow.
Umaga: rants in native language Downward Spiral! THUMB!
Kane: ZOMBIE SITUP!
Umaga: SECOND ROPE THUMB!
Kane: Now that you mention it, I think I'm bleeding inside my mouth.
Movie Execs: And now the new cinematic sensation to sweep the internet: Wigger In A Skipped Ahnuld Script!
Flair: CHOP!
Orton: One move!
Flair: Oh, right, I almost died last night.
Orton: whales on Ric
Flair: ...maybe...I can fire off some more chops...and...I...
Orton: buh buh buh RKO! Loser. And I will smack you.
Referee: Reverse decision!
Orton: For the first time since 1986!? I will KILL this man.
Carlito: Not on my watch, nothing more than a fratboy smirk, attitude problem, and the same gay-ass tribal tattoos every meterosexual has!
Orton: Dude, that hurt.
Mick: Dear Vince: Fuck you. Stronger words to follow. Love, Cactus.
Vince: Dear Mick: Your ludicrously hot platonic friend gets it. Love, Beezlebub.
Mick: Motherfucker....fine. does it
Melina: cries
Everybody: What?!
Butch: I'm just kidding y'all. Of course she uppercutted him in the balls. And Vince fired him. Don't forget to tune into Sci-Fi next week!
Everybody: ...
Ben Stein: God....God....God?
God: still strangely absent
Ben Stein: Moving on. Helmsley? Michaels?
DX: Present! yank the axle off the McLimo and spraypaint the side
Vince: wailing, groaning
Mick: At least you still have a job and working testicular fortitude. Asshole.
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